


An Acceptable Arrangement

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: Akanzo [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Betrayal, Choices, Deals, Emotional Hurt, M/M, Memories, Recruitment, Trust, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 03:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16276733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Talon is place for the strong, for those who have shaped their strength through conflict and loss. It is a place where the archer that has caught Akande's eye during their clashes belongs, but what can he offer that will make Hanzo Shimade accept that fact?





	An Acceptable Arrangement

     Akande Ogundimu was many things. Warrior, he would always list that first even when it gave him pain to think back to the days when he had been a normal fighter. No, he had never been normal, but he had been more and less, than the loss of his arm had made him. Doomfist, he refused to accept the Successor part of his title, refused to acknowledge that he was second in any way. Leader, it was almost amusing how easily he had been welcomed back into that role, almost as though his defeat and incarnation had never happened and he might have been flattered were it not for the fact that the council itself seemed depleted, wavering. A weakness that seemed to have seeped into Talon as a whole while he was gone, victories when they came being harder to achieve than they should’ve been, the losses more numerous than they ever had been under his leadership.

  It was the nature of war, he knew that, and he had long since moved past the impetuousness of his youth where he had thought that you had to win every battle to win the war, but still, it was giving him pause as he surveyed footage from their latest altercation with the newly reformed Overwatch. It had been a minor mission, more an opportunity for him to test their opponents and to see Talon’s forces in action, the prize a shipment of munitions hadn’t been vital although its loss was annoying. Especially when in terms of numbers and with his presence it should have been a relatively easy victory. Instead, it had ended in defeat, although neither side had taken heavy casualties which he was taking as a minor victory, because they would need numbers for the conflicts to come, but it was disappointing. Talon had changed, he had expected that, but while there were still talented people, men and women who like him had been shaped by conflict into something more, something stronger, it lacked something.

    He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and admitting to himself at least that he was tired before pushing the feeling aside, restarting the holovid and leaning in closer, sharp eyes taking in every movement on both sides. What were they lacking? What had been the tipping point?

    He had been starting to think that maybe it had been nothing more than luck, that he was rusty at working as part of a team, his presence throwing the other agents off when he paused, gaze sharpening as he finally noted the figure darting around the edge. He had spied him before, realising that it was hard to miss someone dressed like that, but after seeing that he was wielding a bow, he had dismissed him as insignificant. In a world of advanced technologies, where cybernetics and Omnics had the power to catapult warfare to the next level what use was there for such archaic weapons? But now that he was focused on the man, he could see that each shot met its mark. That whenever Overwatch’s forces had faltered, there had been another shot, a blossom of blue light spreading out in all directions and opened the path for them, and now as he watched he saw the arrow that glanced off his gauntlet, deflected by pure luck as he hadn’t expected the attack.

    The man was an enemy. Yet, Akande couldn’t help but admire his movements and skill, noting that beyond himself the archer had possibly been the most skilful in that battle, the rest relying on brute force and sheer number of bullets to win the fight. _We deserved to lose._ It was a bitter pill to swallow. Softened slightly by the fact that some of his more talented allies hadn’t been there. And made bearable by the flicker of curiosity that he could feel growing as he watched the man nimbly scaling the side of a building to escape an attack, using the vantage point to take out the unfortunate agent who had thought that he’d got the drop on the archer.

_He has potential._

****

Hanzo Shimada.

    It had taken him nearly a week to get the archer’s name, and in the end, it had been an offhand comment during a meeting that had gained him the information, Reaper and Widowmaker sneering the name in unison and he had found himself bristling, wanting to defend the man who had so impressed him. He had fought back the urge, holding back the words and instead turning the name over and over in his mind for the rest of the meeting, glad that he had long since learnt the ability to absorb what was going on around him while his thoughts were elsewhere. There was something familiar about the name, something that tugged at the back of his mind and had him drumming his fingers against the desk. _Hanzo Shimada,  have I met you before?_

    It was days later when he had finally given into his curiosity, ostensibly in the name of learning more about the enemy and in his mind at least a potential recruit and venturing into Sombra’s realm. The years in prison had left him a little behind the times, something he had been working to rectify since his release, consuming every piece of technological news and research he could get his hands on and yet even he was willing to admit that he was out of his depth in this lab. He had never had much time for computers, or even technology unless it was designed to strengthen mankind, and yet as he gazed around at the multiple screens, the machines he could vaguely put a name too, he wondered if that was something to be rectified as well, another weapon he could hone. It was a thought for another time as he watched Sombra’s fingers practically dancing across the keys, his gaze shifting to the screen as she brought up the information he was seeking.

    Understanding dawned as images of Hanamura appeared on the screen. It had been years, decades since he had been there, but he still remembered the visit with startling clarity. Maybe because it had been his first trip abroad with his father solely for business, a trip where his voice had finally meant something, or maybe it was because it had been the last trip he had made before the fight that had ended his martial arts career. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the imposing compound, the regimented guards, the aura of power that had been understated and yet ever-present, and he remembered him. He opened his eyes, startled to realise he had even closed them and found himself staring at the archer. He was older, grey tinting his hair and a heaviness in his expression that spoke of loss and suffering, but the eyes… he remembered those eyes, remembered facing off against him across the mat in the dojo when he had grown bored with the talks, remembered the fight. One of the few he had lost because it had been like chasing quicksilver, the slighter man never where he expected him to be.

_He hasn’t changed…_

“Can you send me this information.” It wasn’t really a request, and he would have preferred to just read it there and then, but even with the past pressing in on him he was aware of Sombra’s curious gaze, and he wasn’t about to show just how much the archer interested him to someone whose motives were questionable at best. He arched an eyebrow when she didn’t immediately comply, and she muttered something that sounded vaguely insulting before complying, fingers dancing once more, and he caught a brief glimpse of his own name darting across the skin before she was spinning around to face him once more.

“Done.” He inclined his head in thanks, not willing to be rude even if he didn’t completely trust her before turning on his heel and heading for the door, keen to read the information in the privacy of his own room. He had just stepped through the door when her voice rang out, a knowing undertone to her voice that told him that she was at least partially aware of his true intentions towards the archer. “He’s refused all efforts to recruit him.” That was interesting to know, and it was a relief to know that Talon still had some eye for talent although he didn’t let that show, glancing back at her for a moment, letting a hint of a smirk play along his lips.

“He hasn’t refused mine.”

****

    It was those files that were on his mind as he watched the fight going on below him. While he was supposed to be providing a distraction he had delegated the task, retreating to a high vantage point where he could watch and try and find what Talon was lacking, and watch Hanzo Shimada. It hadn’t taken him long to spy the archer darting between rooftops below him, and he had to admit that there was a slight thrill at the thought that he just had to look up or retreat higher and they would finally meet. It was a meeting he was looking forward to, something akin to excitement making him lean forward almost in the hope that Hanzo would look up and see him, but the archer seemed determined to frustrate him, attention riveted on the fight below. Although he couldn’t be too disappointed because he was a vision to watch, all quick movements, sharp eyes and quick fingers and it made Akande wish that he had seen him fight with a katana - it would be a sight to behold.

     Almost unconsciously his eyes sought out the other Shimada brother, spotting the distinctive figure darting in and out on the ground and feeling a brief spike of anger, remembering their fight and how it had ended before he pushed the reaction down. He had been the one to lose, his opponents deserved praise for their victory no matter how close fought it had been and besides he was impressive to watch too, proof of how much cybernetics could bring to humans. However, Akande still found his attention wavering, and after a moment he turned his attention back to Hanzo. He had read everything that Talon had on the archer, which was a considerable amount considering their previous ties with the Shimada clan and their interest in recruiting the former heir. It had read like a tragedy. One that would have crushed many a lesser man, and yet while he had been able to see the damage those losses and trials had inflicted on Hanzo, it had also forged him into the warrior he was currently watching devastating his own team.

    Akande didn’t respond when he felt the familiar disturbance in the air by his side which indicated that Reaper had left the fight for the time being. Not even sparing the other man a glance as he watched Hanzo nimbly darting a barrage of bullets before returning fire with a single scatter arrow that took down half a dozen agents at once. _Impressive._ There hadn’t been a wasted movement or the slightest hesitation. The archer clearly had the utmost faith in his own skill, and no hesitation about taking lives as every arrow had caused a fatality. There was a quiet noise from beside him, Reaper shifting from foot to foot, no doubt not appreciating the fact that he was being ignored. If he hoped that the movement, followed by an impatient noise that was halfway between a growl and a cough was enough to draw a reaction he was going to be disappointed. Akande had learned long ago to let others make the first move because if you had the measures to counter it, it could give you the advantage from the start.

    Hanzo was moving again, bounding across to the next rooftop a split second before his original perch disintegrated, an attack that would easily have knocked him from the fight if it had caught him. It looked close, but Akande wasn’t fooled, he had seen the archer pause, seemingly counting in his head before moving. Deliberately timing his escape, and Akande hummed approvingly under his breath, having seen numerous people try that in the past and fail and yet Hanzo had made it seem effortless. Perhaps it had been, after all, he had undergone rigorous training as a youth, training that might even put Akande’s to shame and it was clear that he hadn’t let the skills erode. _He will need little training._

“You’re watching him again,” Reaper finally broke the silence, irritation clear in his voice and Akande flashed him a brief glance. The Mercenary had caught him re-watching the footage of that first battle, and he was positive that Sombra had divulged his interest in the archer, although neither of them had said anything to him about it until now.

“Yes.” It was another lesson he had learned a long time ago, never to say more than was necessary lest it be used against you. That his unhelpful answer had Reaper tapping his foot impatiently was only a secondary bonus, and he was careful to hide the way his lips quirked at the reaction, filing it away for future use before turning his gaze back to the grateful figure darting about on the rooftop beneath them. A scatter arrow devastating a group that had been backed into a corner by Overwatch’s audio medic, and he tensed slightly as he heard Reaper growl at the sight, ready to stop him if he lifted a hand against the archer. Instead, there was a moment of tense silence, and then Reaper broke.

“Why?”

    _Why?_ It was a valid question he supposed, after all, he had shown little interest in the rest of the Overwatch forces, even those that had led to his incarceration. He wasn’t even sure what it was about the archer that had caught his attention, or had kept him replaying that last fight just to watch how he had fought. However, he could feel the gaze burning into him and knew that if he didn’t give an answer, it would be considered a weakness, and while he had no fear of losing his position, there was no need to invite pointless internal conflict when they were already wavering.

“He has potential.”

“We have tried to recruit him before,” Reaper replied, trailing off as they watched a hopeful pair of their men making it onto the rooftop only to be taken out by arrows at close range, Hanzo’s attention immediately returning to the street below and he had already fired off two more shots before Reaper continued.  “Clearly it has failed.”

“So, I’ve been informed.” Akande wondered who had made the approach and what they had offered because he knew that a man like Hanzo would not turn from his chosen path without a good reason. It made him curious to know what Overwatch had offered the archer, beyond a chance to reconnect with his brother. However, blood could only get you so far, and Hanzo had already proven that he was willing to take down his own family even if he had later regretted such actions. A sigh from his companion had him tearing his gaze from Hanzo to glance at Reaper, silently ordering him to say what he had on his mind, pleased when it took little more than a minute for the other man to break.

“If you must approach him, don’t offer to reinstate his clan or his former position…”

    There was a moment of silence apart from the sounds of battle drifting up from below, Akande absorbing the words, considering them as a scowl darkened his brow and he made no effort to hide his incredulity. “That is what you offered him?” The continued silence was enough of an answer, and he turned away, frustration bubbling up. It reminded him too much of the early days when Talon had been trying to entice him to rise through the ranks, to take over from his Master. They had promised him everything back then. Power. A chance to reclaim what he had lost. Not realising that such things could never be reclaimed, that they shouldn’t be reclaimed because it was those losses, those struggles that had shaped him and made him stronger. Hanzo might have pursued a path of redemption, but the strength to fight came from what he had lost and endured, to have that written off.

_Fools._

    He wasn’t sure if his irritation was palpable, or whether Reaper had realised that he had no intention of entering the fray and that one of them needed to if they didn’t want a repeat of that last battle. Either way, there was another sigh and a slight ripple in the air beside him, and suddenly he was alone once more, and he took a deep breath to calm himself, realising that he had stirred up more memories than intended, hands clenching in his lap. He had nearly left Talon at that point, nearly taken a different path because they hadn’t understood his strength.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake.

    A sudden lull in the almost rhythmic sound of Hanzo’s arrows was the only warning he got, lifting his head just in time to find the target of his interest scaling the edge of the roof he was perched on, and it was only reflexes honed over the years that allowed him to dodge the arrow rushing towards him. Slates went flying as he dug metal fingers into the roof to stop his movement, twisting to face the archer and pausing when he realised that Hanzo had halted too, although the arrow notched to his string was warning enough that the peace would be short-lived if he made a single wrong move. Akande arched an eyebrow at him, curious because there was no way Hanzo couldn’t be aware of who he was and from the way the dark eyes focused on his gauntlet for a minute, something flickering in their depths…not fear or awe, but interest? He knew full well who he was facing.

“Why are you watching me?” Hanzo asked, and for a moment he was transported back to that dojo in Hanamura when he had stumbled across the Shimada heir practising, the voice was older, but it still bore the same regal undertone. However, what impressed him the most was the lack of fear. It wasn’t bravado either, he had learned to pick up on that and knew that half his interactions with the lower ranks of Talon were tainted with it.

“I was admiring your skill with the bow.” Hanzo frowned at the flattery, another pleasing sign because Akande had little need for those who needed praise, even if he had been honest with his words this time, his gaze drifting to the magnificent bow that was still aimed unerringly at him. “It has been some time since I saw such an archaic weapon, let alone one that could hold its own in this kind of battlefield,” he gestured around at the Numbani skyline stretching around then, modern architecture built with the most advanced technology towering around them.

“Says a man that prefers to fight with his fists.”

“I prefer to rely on my own strength,” Akande corrected, sparing a slightly bitter glance at his gauntleted arm. He had accepted what fate had determined for him, but it didn’t stop him from mourning the loss of his own arm and his ability to fight purely with his own strength. When he looked up, it was to catch a hint of surprise, followed by understanding in the dark eyes and despite where his thoughts had been going he offered the archer a small smile. “As do you.” It wasn’t a question, and he knew he was on point when Hanzo glanced away for half a second, and he took that as a sign that it was safe to move, slowly rising to his full height while trying to remain relatively unthreatening. “That was my other reason for watching you, and for wanting to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

    He knew that it was too soon to make the approach. He didn’t yet have all the answers to what would make Hanzo deviate from the path he was currently following, but with the man stood right in front of him he had to try, holding out a hand in invitation. “Hanzo, you could consider joining us, I believe that we could see eye to eye on many matters. Hanzo Shimada.” He took satisfaction in the way Hanzo’s eyes narrowed at the confirmation that he knew his name, but then his expression evened out and for half a second Akande wondered if he had done it, the bow slowly lowering.

“I would have little to gain from such an arrangement,” Hanzo replied curtly, dismissing the offer as Akande had been expecting, but there was a hint of curiosity as he studied the outstretched hand for a moment before turning away although not without a final warning. “Overwatch will win this battle, you should recall your men before you suffer more losses.” 

     As the archer disappeared over the edge, returning to the intensifying fight below Akande found himself staring after him for a long moment before chuckling. It wasn’t the outcome he had wanted, but it had gone better than he had expected and it seemed as though there was room to negotiate. _I would have little to gain,_ his chuckle tapered off into a thoughtful frown as he moved to the edge to watch as Hanzo re-joined the fight, giving no indication to his own teammates that the enemy was right above them.

_I will change that._

****

    To his dismay, something he was careful to keep masked around the others, aware that they were watching his every move after he had followed Hanzo’s advice and ordered a retreat on that mission, the opportunity to approach the archer once more didn’t come for another couple of months. However, he had used that time wisely, memorising every bit of information he had on Hanzo Shimada, sifting through it for anything that could be used either as a weapon or an enticement, watching from afar as the other man harried Talon forces on every mission he was assigned.

    However, it had been the last clash between Overwatch and Talon that had given him his biggest insight into what might potentially lure Hanzo Shimada to their side. _To his side._ Both organisations were in Volskya, trying to secure an experimental fuel that was being generated for Russia’s new Mechs and after intensive training, Talon was not only holding their own this time but successfully forcing the Overwatch forces and local security into an increasingly desperate defence. Akande had been on the ground this time, motivating his own men and relishing the chance to fight unrestrained. Feeling back at full strength after months of hard works to remove even the faintest trace of his incarceration and yet even as he fought, trying to broach the German Crusader’s energy shield his eyes were on the move in search of a more desirable opponent.

    He had almost thought that Hanzo wasn’t there this time when Widowmaker’s voice had come over the communicator informing him that she had encountered the other sniper and was keeping him occupied. There was a brief flicker of alarm at her words, but she knew better than to kill what was his and he stopped himself from growling out a warning, refusing to let on just how much this project had come to mean to him. “Hold him there,” he ordered instead, not waiting for confirmation as he put more force into his next blow. It wasn’t enough to break the shield, but it forced the other man back a few steps, crowding the Overwatch forces into a narrower area. “Finish this.” There was a murmur of assent, more buoyant than it had been on other missions because they could practically taste victory at this point and trusting them to deal with it he launched himself into the air.

It was time to sweeten the deal…

**

    It wasn’t the first time he had regretted what had been done to Amélie Lacroix, but it had been a while since he had felt it this potently when he finally located them on the rooftop. Only to find Hanzo pinned against the wall, blood trickling from his shoulder and Widowmaker’s rife resting directly above his heart holding him in place. He bristled at the sight of the injury, knowing it would make negotiations harder and he could see the hardness in Hanzo’s gaze when the archer noticed his presence, none of his earlier curiosity to be seen.

“Release him,” he ordered, relieved when his voice came out even despite his irritation, narrowing his eyes when she hesitated. “Widowmaker.” As much as he wished they had left her with more free will, just because it was impossible for someone to learn and grow stronger through conflict when they were unable to look past the next command, the next kill, he was grateful for it when the muzzle moved away from Hanzo. “Go and cover the team.” He ignored the look she gave him, waiting until she had obeyed, zipping up and over the next rooftop and out of sight before turning his attention to Hanzo. Taking half a step forward as he stared at the bloody wound before remembering himself and coming to a halt a short distance away, dismayed to realise that Hanzo had tensed at his approach. “I apologise, I had asked her to hold you here so that I could talk to you. I did not mean for this to happen.”

“It is an occupational hazard,” Hanzo replied after studying him intently for a couple of minutes, only a slight edge to his voice indicating how much pain he must be in, but he seemed to relax after the apology leaning against the wall. “However, I can’t imagine what we have to talk about.” It was a challenge, and an invitation rolled into one and Akande felt his lips quirked, it was refreshing to have someone whose wits seemed in line with his.

“Last time you said that you had little to gain from an arrangement with me.” He knew that Hanzo had caught the shift in the wording, interest flickering across his face before he grimaced again, hand tightening on his shoulder. “I…” He hesitated, he actually hesitated, something about that display of pain agitating him and he took a step forward without intending to, only to be waved off with a sharp shake of the archer’s head.

“Continue.”

“Are…” He started, only to find himself being cut off by both of their communicators going off and he must have made an irritated noise because there was a soft noise that could have a been a chuckle, although when he glanced up Hanzo was grim-faced once more.

“I need to get back.” The words were expected after Widowmaker’s report that they were making the final push, but no less disappointing and yet he found himself reluctant to push the issue, noticing the determination, the resolve to re-join the fight despite his injury and so he nodded. Muttering his own reply to Widowmaker he put the communicator away and held out his hand in invitation, earning a startled look, and he was expecting the help to be brushed aside, but then to his surprise, Hanzo reached back. He didn’t say anything, moving to support him so that he could get them back to the ground. Trying to ignore the part of him that disapproved of the weakness on both sides, and the part of him that liked the press of the archer against his side, shifting to lessen the impact with the ground.

    They were silent as they moved back towards the distant sounds of battle, taking back passages to avoid being seen together, but the silence was surprisingly comfortable, and so he fought back the urge to try and press his advantage. The opportunity slipping through his fingers for good as there was a deafening explosion in the distance, followed by the sound of running footsteps heading towards them a couple of minutes later, each step accompanied by the soft jingle of metal.

“Hide,” Hanzo muttered out of the corner of his mouth, ignoring the incredulous look his words received as he stepped out into the open, leaving Akande with little choice but to duck back and stand pressed against the wall and hope the newcomer didn’t advance beyond the archer. Tilting his head, he watched as Jesse McCree stepped into sight, shaking his head at the ridiculous cowboy getup. He had considered the man for recruitment once upon a time, especially when he had realised who Reaper really was, but the man had a sense of justice that had no place in a world of conflict and seemed to care little for his own strength. What caught his attention though was the way Hanzo had tensed at the sight of his own teammate, and the light tension that had seeped into his words.  “What happened?”

“We lost the payload, where were you?!” Akande took a moment to savour the news of Talon’s victory, before focusing once more, catching the harsh note in McCree’s voice, the hint of accusation underlying the question.

“Widowmaker had me pinned down,” Hanzo replied evenly, gesturing at his shoulder and Akande stiffened at the reminder of his injury. It wasn’t deadly, but it needed to be dealt with before it could affect his ability to shoot his bow and he was marginally appeased to see concern appear in the gunslinger’s expression.

“Was she trying to recruit you again?” It was said lightly enough, and McCree had moved forward to support the archer, mindful of his injury, but there was still something in his voice that Akande didn’t like and apparently neither did Hanzo because he was rigid in the supportive hold and a wary edge to his voice.

“Not this time.”

    McCree seemed to be satisfied with that for now, leading Hanzo away, but Akande found himself having to resist the urge to step out of his hiding place as a realisation slammed into him. He wasn’t sure if it was just the gunslinger or Overwatch as a whole, but it was clear that despite the Hanzo’s efforts over the last few months, his skills, his results…they didn’t trust him, at least not completely, even when he had clearly publicly turned down Talon’s advances in the past. He held himself in place, listening until he could no longer hear them before stepping out in the open, eyes dark as he stared after them, hands clenched at his side even as a slow smile spread across his lips.

_I have you now…_

****

    Their next encounter came almost a month later, and this time Hanzo was waiting for him, perched on the edge of a roof, communicator switched off and lying at his feet and a strained, distant expression on his face as he viewed the fight raging beneath them. “You came.” He sounded exhausted, defeated, a tone that had Akande scowling as he moved to stand alongside him, glancing at his shoulder for a moment to make sure that the wound had healed properly, although he looked away when Hanzo caught him, missing the tiny quirk of the archer’s lips.

“Of course.” Akande hesitated for a moment before settling down beside him, resisting the urge to sit close enough to touch the other man. He didn’t want anything to interfere this time, and there was something almost fragile about the other man tonight, and whilst if it had been anyone else he would have used that weakness at once to shatter them, he found himself moving cautiously, choosing his words with a care that he usually reserved for the boardroom. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation last time.” Hanzo’s expression tightened, something dark and unpleasant in his eyes before he gestured at the communicator at his feet.

“There won’t be any disturbances this time.” There was something in those words that told him there was more to it than Hanzo choosing to silence the device, but the walls the archer had up might as well be painted in neon colours, and Akande settled for nodding, deciding it was something that could be dealt with later. “You have the floor.” It was too passive, too accepting. Almost as though Hanzo had abandoned all hope of getting a good deal but was willing to consider anything, and Akande was glad that he was the one handling the negotiations because while others might have seized that, it wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what Talon needed. They needed a skilled fighter, not another person handing their free will to the cause and becoming little more than a tool that would eventually be blunted by the conflict… and for that, he needed a reaction.

“Why don’t they trust you?” Hanzo flinched as though the words had slammed into him with a physical force and for a moment Akande wondered if he had gone too direct, half expecting the archer to slip away, but this time when their eyes met there was a hint of fire in the dark eyes, and he nodded approvingly. Let it hurt. Let it be another loss that would make him stronger. Hanzo broke the look first, glancing away, looking at some distant sight that only he could see.

“You know who I am.” It wasn’t a question, and so he waited, letting the archer gather his thoughts. “And what I’ve done?” He nodded, not passing judgement, and not mentioning that was one of the things that had impressed him about Hanzo, sensing that it would take time for those words to be accepted if they ever were. “Those aren’t actions that are easily forgotten, and with Talon snapping at my heels, refusing to accept that I don’t want to go back…” _It is logical for them to not trust me…_

“Yet you still fight for them?”

“My brother is there,” Hanzo sounded as though he was desperately trying to convince himself that it was enough and failing.  “It is…was a chance to redeem myself.” Akande caught the slip, the uncertainty and he knew that he had him, deliberately softening his voice, a tone that he hadn’t used for years as he asked simply.

“Why?” The wide-eyed look would have been amusing at any other time, and he wondered if anyone had ever said that to him, before answering his own question. It had been a tool, a way of getting Hanzo on their side by offering him a chance to ease the burden he had adopted after carrying out his family’s demands, after fulfilling his duty and proving that he was strong enough to see beyond such ties. “Do you know how I received this,” he lifted his gauntleted hand. “And the name Doomfist?” A tiny nod greeted his question, and he was pleased, glad that he wasn’t alone in his determination to research the other. “It felt so simple the day I faced him. I knew what I need to do, what I was aiming to achieve and that was enough to carry me through the fight, and through the celebration, but that night, alone in the quarters that he had trained me in, I was hit by doubts. By regret, by guilt.”

    He had never talked about that night. The weakness that had gripped him when he was on his own had been buried, locked away and turned into a fresh strength. It doesn’t feel like a weakness right now, not when Hanzo is studying him, searching for a lie - a hint of something, hope maybe that someone understood. “We took different paths, and maybe yours was the wrong one.” How strong would Hanzo be now if he hadn’t been weighed down with guilt? With a search for redemption that it seemed others were unwilling or unable to grant him? Maybe in the future, they would find out, but for now, the man in front of him, slender hands tightening on his bow was strong enough in his own right. “But you’re alive, and you’re strong. That means the world is still yours for the taking, because the world, especially the one in front of us, favours the strong. It favours us, Hanzo.”

“Is that what you have to offer, a world where a man who tried to murder his brother is favoured just because he is strong?”

“No.” Akande wasn’t fooled. The bitterness in that question had been real, and he knew that it would be a while before Hanzo was willing to leave that label behind, but there was a waver in his voice, a quiver in the conviction that had let him refuse Talon’s previous invitations. His reply seemed to have surprised Hanzo, the archer watching him warily now and Akande shifted, twisting so that he was facing the other man and holding out his hand for the third time. “I offer you a place where you will be welcomed, where you are needed.” He already had him. He had spent a lifetime learning to read body language, first in fights so that he could predict the next attack and later in the boardroom when words could be used to mask peoples’ intentions. He reached out, taking the risk and resting his hand over Hanzo’s were it was clenched around the bow, feeling the archer tense and then relax at his next words. “A place where you will be trusted.” Hanzo gave him a look, silently telling him that he knew that it wouldn’t be as simple as that, but Akande waited, calm and certain…and a moment later he felt Hanzo’s fingers shift and curl around his.

“I believe that is an arrangement I can accept.”

 


End file.
